


i just want to believe

by fideliter



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Hair Washing, Other, Shower Sex, wet dreams: the saga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 09:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fideliter/pseuds/fideliter
Summary: This is the grace only we can bestow, this is the price you pay for loss of control.Each of the Seed family has their own fantasies regarding the Deputy.





	1. John

**Author's Note:**

> Title + summary lyrics taken from "Okay I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don't" by Brand New. 
> 
> Inspired by [this](https://niavka.tumblr.com/post/172787663744/you-know-what-the-seed-brothers-need-an) post by tumblr user Niavka!

He's got them spread out across the sheets, wrists cuffed to each bedpost. It doesn't matter how much Deputy writhes beneath his weight because they’re not going _anywhere_ , even as they strain with exertion and pleasure both. John grins, wide and sharp, as he leans back on his heels to see the display before him, to see the absolute mess he's made of the deputy. _His_ deputy.

They’re slow to learn, but they’re getting there.

Thin lines of blood ooze from fresh wounds, a cut here and there, each administered by the knife at his side - to the absolute delight of Dep. Oh, they’d cried and panted, twisting at the restraints, but it's impossible to ignore how much this affects them. It's impossible to ignore how much they _wanted_ it. The Baptist knows what he's doing, knows to chase each pulse of pain with a lick of pleasure - and he doesn't stop until Dep's toes are curling and they're keening.

Until all they can say is _yes_ and _please_ and _John._

He leans down to lap at the blood on their abdomen - where _yes_ was carved with neat, delicate strokes - and keeps going down. Licks a broad stroke past their belly button and places a kiss just below it - pausing to shoot them a wolfish grin. _"Do you want me to keep going, Deputy? Do you think you've **earned** this?"_ he purrs into their skin, teeth nipping at a hipbone hard enough to bruise.

Rook whines, the sound coming from low in their throat, and does their absolute best to roll their hips forward. Forward and into him, chasing that friction that'll come if he just shifted his weight forward. _"F-fuck, John,"_ They pant - voice broken and ragged. Immediately he _tsk_ s, expression darkening.

_"I thought I taught you how to ask **nicely**? Or have you forgotten already?"_ A free hand roams up their stomach, fingers digging into the fresh wound. Rook inhales sharply and trembles, but John doesn't press too hard - just enough to act as a threat, just enough to keep their hips still. 

_"Please, John, please - !"_ Dep moans, and with each reedy breath, John walks his fingers down their body. _"I want you, please, just touch me."_ He hums a thoughtful noise, hand lingering over where they're wet and wanting - before plunging two fingers inside of them.

It's sudden, unexpected, and Rook keens - half rising off the mattress as they come. Watching them break underneath them, watching their face as they fall apart - hearing the way they cry out his name, it's almost more than he can take. He reaches for his own cock, hissing as he takes himself in hand, and -

\- and John comes, thickly, across his own stomach and silk sheets. His chest heaves like he's just run a marathon, sweat covering bare skin, and it takes him a long moment to realize where he is. To realize what had happened through the fog of pleasure. He's in his own darkened bedroom, alone; it was all just a fucking dream.

Snarling, he leans over and knocks the lamp off his bedside table. The shattering of glass doesn't quite block out the echo of the deputy's throaty moans, but it helps.

Maybe.


	2. Jacob

The water is warm where it hits his back, washing away the grub and grime of the day. It helps ease his muscles, urging them to relax – even as the deputy strives for the opposite. Their touch is light and flighty, almost _hesitant_ as they explore his body, smoothing their palms over ruined flesh. Jacob hums an approval when their touches become pointed, brave; he grunts as those daring fingers slide across his abdomen. Towards a prize they haven’t quite earned yet.

 _“Easy, pup.”_ His voice is low, hardly audible above the running water. Rook’s hands slow until they spread across bare hipbones, head tilting to the side, enjoying this quiet moment even as they wait for instructions. Jacob says nothing, just moves their hands off of him as he turns them around with a heavy hand on their shoulder. 

The shampoo is something cheap, something forgettable, but the scent is fragrant in the cramped bathroom. He squirts a generous amount into his palms before rubbing it into their scalp, using both hands to work it through. Rook lets out a quiet groan, letting their head tilt back as Jacob works. He’s no-nonsense with it, lathering up all their hair with precise strokes. _“Close your eyes,”_ he finally mumbles, _“Need to rinse.”_

Dep does so, letting him lean them back into the water’s spray. A rough hand slides to their forehead, blocking the soapy water from sliding down their face. Neither says a word as Jacob washes the soap from their hair with more easy touches, stopping only once his task is complete. 

Rook blinks, using a hand to wipe at their face, turning around in the small space to face him. _“C’mon, it’s your turn.”_ That hesitance is all but gone as they grin at him, a soft quirk of his lips that has Jacob moving. Switching places is easier than said than done – his shower isn’t really big enough for this – but they manage.

__

__

_Practice makes perfect,_ and all that.

Easily, Jacob goes to his knees, wrapping a meaty hand around their knee to help steady himself. The warm of the water makes his joints clench, makes them ache, but it’s worth it for this view. Rook looks down at him and bites their bottom lip – he’s _so close_ and they nearly tremble with it. Still, they haven’t _earned it yet._ So, instead, they reach for the shampoo bottle and get to work.

Jacob leans his forehead against their hip, letting himself melt into the sensation of their hands against his scalp.

The deputy works quick but lets their hands linger; his hair is short and doesn’t need much attention. They weren’t instructed otherwise, and Jacob doesn’t say anything, so they indulge. Nails bite at the rough, stubbly cut of his hair – lightly scratching circles wherever they can reach. Jacob presses closer to their hip, leaving open-mouthed kisses across bare skin. Each pass of teeth and tongue cause Rook’s hands to tremble, fingers curling against the nape of his neck. 

Holding him in place, holding _onto_ him. 

Spurned on by their ragged breathing and his own winding impatience, Jacob’s bites become more pointed. He sucks a bruise into their outer thigh and delights in the way their muscles tense beneath his touch. He leaves a trail of searing kisses, using his grip on their calves to lean them closer. Rook’s panting, heated little gasps that melt into the steam. 

Still they look at him with a fierce expression, lips twisting up sharply. It’s not unlike his Judges and their sharp-toothed smiles. His hands clench at their legs, grubby fingernails digging into their slick flesh. Finally, _finally_ , he lets his mouth wander closer to the heat between their legs. Presses a kiss just above where they want, and grins at the way they keen. He doesn’t hesitate, then, to take them in his mouth, tongue working to make them cry out louder. 

Cry out _his name_ because they’re _**his**_ and _**always have been**_ \- 

\- and Jacob comes, alone and dry and in his bed.

The shock of it – both the waking _and_ the orgasm – hits him like a sucker punch, a stuttering gasp that wrenches through him. He’s sticky and he aches, and his knuckles whiten against his soiled sheets. _Fuck._

In the distance, a wolf howls – and soon enough, others join in. A chorus fills the mountain air, haunting and ultimately _comforting_. Familiar in a way that soothes him, helps his breathing even out.

Outside, he knows, the Deputy’s cage sits empty. Abandoned.

Not for long, though.

They’ll come back to him, when the time is right.

They’ll come _home_.


End file.
